Lost
by JessieJay13
Summary: On a group fieldtrip two portkeys go awry. How can two enemies such as Hermione and Draco survive alone on a uninhabited island? A friend comes into the picture, as well as a psychotic "hunter," leading them into a daring dash for their lives. 2000 READS!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Hermione put one finger on the dented tea kettle in front of her. She glanced around, waiting for McGonagall's countdown. She looked over in Malfoy's direction. She wasn't sure why but she had been looking at him a lot lately. He was looking sour, as usual, and shooting annoyed looks at the Slytherins around him; they were all sniggering and talking quietly. Hermione frowned at them.

All the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were standing, just outside the front door, in anticipation of the first ever mass fieldtrip. They were going to meet a very famous wizard; Merlin. Hermione had been ecstatic when McGonagall had announced it. Each student had an item in front of them. The item was a portkey that would transport them all to a predetermined meeting spot.

Goyle leaned over and tried to talk to Malfoy, who shooed him off irritably. Crabbe tried a bit but was ignored as well. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her gaze to the boys standing on either side of her. Harry and Ron both looked excited and at ease. They had both filled out from Quidditch and Harry's beautiful eyes and Ron's bright hair made them both very handsome near-men. They smiled at her and continued their almost endless Quidditch talk.

Hermione turned her attention to McGonagall. She was counting heads and ticking them off on a roll of parchment. With a flick of her wand, the parchment rolled itself up and disappeared. She whispered 'sonorous' and addressed them all.

'Students,' she said, his magically-magnified voice booming out over the expectant crowd gathered before her. 'I trust you all know how to use a portkey but, for those of you who don't, you must be touching the object before you as I start the countdown. On the count of three, you will feel very peculiar but that is perfectly okay. You should all end up in the same place,' she said calmly. Some of the younger students looked very nervous.

Hermione made sure she was still firmly touching the kettle and saw from the corner of her eye that Harry and Ron were doing the same. She listened intently as McGonagall began the countdown.

'One…' Hermione readjusted her finger on the kettle unnecessarily. '…Two…' Hermione glanced around one last time and then closed her eyes tightly. '…Three!' Hermione felt the familiar tug behind her navel and she was flying through the air; her finger seemed glued to the kettle. Soon, she felt her feet slam into the ground and she worked to stay upright.

Hermione opened her eyes and looked around and was surprised to see that she was standing on a sandy white beach full of palm trees and ferns and it was very hot and humid. The beach was completely deserted with the exception of a certain blonde boy at the other end of the beach; Malfoy. Hermione slowly walked toward Malfoy, still glancing nervously around.

'Malfoy,' Hermione asked uncertainly. 'Where are we? And, more importantly, where is everyone else?' Malfoy slowly shook his head.

'I have no idea,' he said slowly. 'Our portkeys must have malfunctioned.' He began to wander aimlessly down the beach. Hermione followed him.

'But why would ours be the only ones?' she asked desperately. 'There could be others somewhere around here, couldn't there?' Malfoy shook his head. 'Well, I think we ought to at least see if this is an island or not. If there are people more inland then we could get help there,' Hermione said in a determined manner. Malfoy nodded and beckoned for her to lead the way.

Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket and stepped cautiously into the screen of trees. It was cool and damp under the thin canopy of palm fronds and moss. Malfoy followed close behind, making Hermione jumpy and nervous. The tropical forest was teeming with life, but nothing seemed too dangerous besides all the spiders and a couple of snakes. Soon, the unlikely pair happened onto a beautiful clearing.

It was big, about twenty five feet in a rough circle, next to a clear, bubbling stream. The grass was lush and there was a smooth rock outcrop with a fairly large space under it; enough to stand comfortably at the tallest point, at least. The opening even faced south, allowing daylight to enter for the majority of the day. There were many colorful flowers scattered around, adding their aromas to the already heavily perfumed air. The sun was brilliantly bright and high above but much further west than it had been when they left.

'It wasn't this late when we left and we haven't traveled for very long,' she said, more to herself than to Malfoy. 'That must mean that we are very far away from Hogwarts.'

'What was your first clue?' Malfoy snapped irritably, brushing past her and flopping down under the rock outcrop. 'The tropical climate, nothing like that of London, must I remind you, the position of the sun, or any of the other numerous factors?' Hermione glared at him.

'What I _meant_,' Hermione said, her loathing of him clear in her voice. 'was that we are farther south than I originally thought.' Malfoy snorted and rolled his eyes. 'Well, the first thing to do is find food and fire, since the shelter and water has found itself,' she said in a much more business-like tone.

Malfoy stood, stretched and stooped by the sparkling stream. He dipped his hands in and lifted some of the clear water to his lips. It was cool, crisp and refreshing. Then he stood again and began to search for things to use for food. Hermione followed his lead and began to scan the undergrowth for familiar plants.

'So,' she asked offhandedly, tugging at what she suspected was a wild carrot. 'Why were you so mad at Crabbe and Goyle before we left?' She gave one more tug and it popped out of the ground, small and pale yellow. Malfoy turned to look at her, then moved next to her and began to pull up the carrots with much more ease than she.

'Them and the rest of the Slytherins had this stupid plan that they were trying to get me to participate in,' he said vaguely. Hermione motioned for him to continue. 'They weren't touching their portkeys. They didn't go on the fieldtrip. They wanted to stay behind and party when the castle was empty.'

'Well, that plan won't work too well. McGonagall did a very thorough head count. She will know if anyone is missing and exactly who it is. They should find us soon,' she added in a bracing sort of way.

'That doesn't mean we don't need to start a fire,' Malfoy reminded her. She nodded and sat back to think for a moment. Then she popped up and began searching the trees. 'What are you looking for?'

'A long thin stick and a long flat stick,' she answered. At Malfoy's inquiring look, she felt she should explain. 'I was always interested in human prehistory so I read a lot about them. I read about how they started fires. They used two sticks, one thin and one flat, and…aha! I knew there had to be some here,' Hermione yelled, rushing over to a tall tree with a lot of low branches. She ripped off two of the ones she needed and brought them over.

'The flat one is the platform and the thin one is the drill, easy to remember, no? You put the platform on the ground and take the drill and sharpen the end on a rock,' she said, demonstrating. 'You put the sharp end on the platform and make a dent to stabilize the drill. Then you put it there and you twirl it in your hands, always putting pressure on it, like so.' Nothing was happening. 'Malfoy, this can take awhile, so can you get some bark shavings and dry grass and other flammable things like that? Some twigs and stuff, too?' she asked, beginning to sweat. Malfoy nodded obediently and went to find some.

When he got back, Hermione was beginning to get tired, sweat was dripping into her eyes, so he took over, trying to do so without breaking the motion. 'It creates friction and will eventually make an ember that we can transfer to the tinder, the bark,' she said, sounding much like a textbook than a teenager. Malfoy nodded and twirled the drill faster.

While Malfoy twirled, Hermione made a hearth, fireplace, so the fire would be controlled and not spread. She gathered rocks from the streambed and made them into a good sized circle near Malfoy with the tinder inside of it. After a few more moments, a thing wisp of smoke issued from the hole in the platform. Hermione squealed and cautioned Malfoy not to stop quite yet. About ten seconds later, more smoke came and she motioned for him to desist. He did so gladly.

Hermione gently tipped the ember into the tinder and bent down, blowing on it gently. With each breath, the ember grew bright and then dimmed. Hermione blew even gentler, a steady stream of air, and the glowing coal was replaced with a flickering flame. She slowly added more tinder and then progressively larger pieces of wood until they had a blaze going within the confines of the circle of stones. She sat back on her haunches, breathing a sigh of relief and exhaustion.

'That is a very difficult way of doing it and if you see any iron pyrite, fools' gold, or flint, get it,' Hermione advised. Malfoy nodded knowingly and sat down beside her. It had taken the better part of an hour to get the fire started and they were both drained from the effort it involved. They deserved a rest and Hermione decided she fancied a swim.

'I'm going for a swim,' she said indifferently, standing up. Malfoy gaped at her.

'You are not taking your clothes off,' Malfoy said vehemently, though not with the intense disgust he usually spoke to her with. 'Not while I'm here.' Hermione looked down at him and smiled.

'No, I'm not,' she said. 'I am going to walk downstream a ways, out of sight, before I go for my swim. You should swim, too, up here. It'll feel good.' Malfoy looked thoughtful for a second and stood up, stretching.

'I think you're right,' he said, stifling a yawn. 'I will go for a swim. I'll stay here and you go over there. You see that hanging willow? Go behind that so I won't have to see you,' he suggested, pointing to a gnarled tree with thin pale green leaves that hung all the way down, touching the water and making slight ripples. Hermione nodded and headed toward it.

As soon as Malfoy was out of sight, Hermione pulled her ripped and soiled robes over her head and stepped into the river, thinking a bra and panties were close enough to a bikini for her. The water was cold but not uncomfortably so. It was a relief from the heat of the late afternoon sun. The current was strong and the stream was just deep enough for her toes to brush the streambed.

Hermione pulled her robes and dunked them under the water to rinse them as well; they could dry on the sun-warmed rock nearby while she washed. Then, she gladly rinsed the dirt and ashes off of her face and the twigs and leaves out of her hair. She even swam a few laps around the small pool encased by the circular curtain of hanging tendrils. She swam cautiously to the edge and peeked through the drape, making sure that her body was entirely submerged.

Malfoy was thinking along the same lines as her, drying his robes in the sun. He is definitely handsome, Hermione thought to herself. She admired his firm eight pack and his rippling muscles. His cool grey eyes glinted in the sun and his white blond hair hung in his eyes. Then, as though burned, Hermione jerked backward from the hanging leaves, horrified at what she had been doing and thinking. She swam a few more laps to clear her head and then climbed onto the smooth rock by her robes.

It was slightly behind the tree so Hermione knew Malfoy couldn't see her. She stretched out and spread her hair around her. It had straightened slightly over the summer, become less bushy and more sleek curls. She had filled out, as well, and she had a perfect hourglass figure. Despite her obvious beauty, Hermione remained oblivious to it and hid her shape with robes and sweaters. On the other hand, boys had been quick to notice and Hermione was getting asked out daily. She turned them all down. She hadn't really liked any of them. She was waiting for the right man.

Malfoy watched Hermione as she disappeared behind a curtain of leaves that created a secluded spot of shaded stream. He sighed and, pulling off his robes, stepped into the cool stream. The current was swift but he could stand straight. He soaked his robes to get the dirt off and laid them out to sundry on a rock. He rinsed his face and hair to remove any grime or mud and then floated on his back for a moment, just relaxing.

Malfoy heard a small noise from downstream and stood up, glancing that way. He saw a few of the vine-like leaves of the willow swing back into place and he smirked slightly. He knew she had looked. He chuckled and lied on the rock beside his robes to dry himself. He found himself glancing toward the screen of leaves, hoping to get a glance of Hermione but he shook his head to stop himself.

Hermione pulled her robes back over her head but found them horribly hot. She shrugged and walked out from under the shade of the hanging willow to see Malfoy doing the same. She got an idea and pulled out her wand. She pointed it at the bottom of her robes and muttered 'diffindo'. A large strip fell away, leaving a short skirt in place of the full length robe. She did the same with the sleeves and felt much cooler.

'It helps a lot in this heat,' she informed Malfoy, who looked impressed. He did the same to his robes; he cut the sleeves short and the robes to about knee length.

'I still don't like these robes,' he complained. 'They make me feel like I'm in a dress.' Hermione giggled, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle the laughter. Malfoy tried to suppress his laugh but Hermione's giggle was contagious and he was soon chuckling as well.

'I think we could come up with a spell of some sort to make more clothes so we don't have to wear this,' Hermione assured him. 'I am the only one around here who gets to run around in a skirt.'

'Good,' Malfoy said flippantly. He was indeed uncomfortable about the present state of dress. He laid out under the rock outcrop, very comfortable in the shade on the soft white sand. Hermione laid down beside him. She closed her eyes and sighed, a little awkward at being so close to him. Then her eyes shot open and she moaned. 'What?'

'I'm hungry,' she moaned again. 'I think we should cook those carrots we found before it gets too dark. It's already getting late. We don't have anything to put them in to cook them so we'll have to lay them on a rock and put them next to the fire. It would probably be bad for them to be directly in the fire because they would burn. Maybe with some hide or something…' Hermione began to rattle on about the carrots, getting up and looking around for a properly sized rock. Malfoy sat up. His stomach had begun to growl as well.

'I want meat,' he said and Hermione turned to look at him.

'Well, I personally think that we should concentrate on getting settled first,' she said reasonably. 'but if you really want to go kill something, be my guest, but you would have to do all the skinning and gutting.'

'Ew,' Malfoy said, grimacing in disgust, picturing himself doing such a task. 'Oh, well. Maybe later.' He stood up and walked over to Hermione, a look of gratitude she had never seen on his face before. 'Thank you, Hermione,' he said, entirely genuine. 'For the fire and everything. At least one of us knows how to survive out here.' Hermione was momentarily stunned.

'Um…You're welcome?' she answered timidly. This new Malfoy was a little unsettling. He smiled at her. Really smiled. It was dazzling and his eyes had a charisma to them. His eyes, usually so cold and grey, were the deep grey color of flint. Hermione seemed drawn to them. She couldn't look away. She smiled dreamily back. He broke eye contact, flushing a bit, and turned to set the carrots to cook by the fire. Hermione blushed, too, and turned to look for something to keep herself occupied. He's beautiful when he does that, she thought.

Malfoy pulled on his robes and noticed how swelteringly hot they were in the heat of the day. He notice Hermione come out of the screen of leaves and whisper something, making the bottom half of her robes fall away to create a short skirt, and then the sleeves. Malfoy whispered 'diffindo' and the bottom half of his fell off, too. He did the sleeves and become aware of how exposed and breezy his legs were. It made him uncomfortable.

'I still don't like these robes,' he grumbled. 'They make me feel like I'm in a dress.' He was annoyed to see Hermione begin to laugh at his predicament. He tried to scowl at her but the corners of his mouth turned up of their own accord and he began to laugh, too.

'I think we could come up with a spell of some sort to make more clothes so we don't have to wear this. I am the only one around here who gets to run around in a skirt.' she said, still trying to keep from laughing at him.

'Good,' he answered glibly. He collapsed onto his back in the shade of the stone protrusion. Hermione laid down beside him. He was uncomfortably aware of how close they were. He heard Hermione sigh and then moan.

'I'm hungry,' she whined. 'I think we should cook those carrots we found before it gets too dark. It's already getting late. We don't have anything to put them in to cook them so we'll have to lay them on a rock and put them next to the fire. It would probably be bad for them to be directly in the fire because they would burn. Maybe with some hide or something…' Hermione began to jabber on about the carrots they had picked, jumping up and searching for a good rock. Malfoy made himself sit up. His stomach began to squirm in hunger, too.

'I want meat,' Malfoy said, thinking of juicy steak and hamburgers and the like. Hermione turned and looked at him, a disgusted and skeptical look on her face.

'Well, I personally think that we should concentrate on getting settled first,' she said. 'but if you really want to go kill something, be my guest, but you would have to do all the skinning and gutting.' Malfoy shuddered. He may not be very nice at times but that didn't mean he didn't have it heart. It would kill him to rip apart a defenseless little animal. He had secretly been hoping for a burger joint to pop up out of thin air. Fat chance, he thought to himself.

'Ew,' he said, simply. Hermione nodded. 'Oh, well. Maybe later.' He stood and made up his mind. He strode over to Hermione and looked her right in the eye. 'Thank you, Hermione,' he said sincerely. 'For the fire and everything. At least one of us knows how to survive out here,' he said, chuckling slightly.

'Um…You're welcome?' she said, looking a little uncertain. Malfoy smiled at her, trying to calm her uneasiness. She stared at him with those warm, honey colored eyes. They sparkled with some unknown hint that hadn't been there long. He would know, he had studied her enough. Her eyes seemed to pull him closer. He wanted to fall into them. She smiled dreamily at him.

Malfoy realized that he had been staring. He felt the color rise in his cheeks and he wrenched his gaze from Hermione's beautiful and entrancing eyes, busying himself with the carrots, more to give himself something to do rather than out of hunger. He didn't feel like eating now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione blush as well and wander off to do who-knows-what. She's beautiful when she does that, he thought.

Malfoy cooked the carrots and he and Hermione sat down beside the fire. She had returned with an armload of firewood a couple of minutes before. There was an uncomfortable hush. They finished their meal in silence and Malfoy tugged down some large palm fronds for mattresses. He gave a couple to Hermione and they both arranged them as the wanted under the overhang.

The rock trapped the heat and gave it back so the night wasn't chilly in the least. The palm fronds, though stiff, were supported by the sand and made comfortable beds. Their stomachs weren't full, per say, but they weren't hungry either. They both floated off to sleep rather quickly and stayed asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Hermione woke up the next morning feeling very comfortable indeed. It took her a moment to recognize the reason; Malfoy had his arms wrapped around her. Even though the thought was undeniably odd, Hermione made no move to leave or shy away, she just snuggled back into the warmth and strength of his arms. She lay there for a couple of minutes until she felt Malfoy stirring. She quickly pretended to be asleep so that he wouldn't get the wrong idea; he would never let her live it down.

Malfoy tightened his hold on her slightly, also making no move to leave the snug overhang so soon. By the light streaming underneath, Hermione could tell that it was still early in the morning, just past dawn if she had to guess. Eventually, Malfoy propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her seemingly sleeping form. 'She looks so beautiful when she sleeps,' he thought dreamily. 'Like an angel.'

'Good morning, Hermione,' he whispered, lowering his face to hers. Hermione felt his warm breath on her ear and shivered slightly. She let out a long, fake moan and sat up, rubbing her eyes. 'I said 'Good morning, Hermione',' he said somewhat louder, in a very falsely cheery voice. Hermione laughed and looked up into his big, exaggerated smile.

'Good morning, Draco,' she said back, imitating his voice. He laughed as well and smiled at her.

'Well, you're the expert,' Draco said, gesturing to her. 'What do we do now?' Hermione considered his question for a moment and then glanced around their makeshift campsite. It was a large meadow, grassy for the most part but fading to pure white sand at the shore of the small sparkling stream. There were many different types of trees and shrubs that Hermione recognized, including palm, banana and cocoanut trees, and many she didn't. She glanced at the sky, which was mostly clear with a few dark but scattered clouds to the east, moving steadily toward them.

'First we need to check the fire and gather more firewood,' she said standing up and stretching, pulling Draco with her. 'Then we need more food and then we need a shelter.'

'What's wrong with the rock?' Draco asked, annoyed at having to do more work to make a shelter when one perfectly serviceable one was readily at hand.

'Draco, do you see those clouds gathering in the east?' she asked, turning him to look and pointing at them. He nodded. 'Well, those have water in them which means that it will rain. A stone outcrop does not offer much protection from water. We need to protect the fire most of all or we'll have to make a whole other one and that would take too much valuable time. I'm not saying we build a house, or anything, just weave a panel to cover the entrance to the overhang to keep the water and wind out. Kay?'

Draco pondered this for a while and finally nodded, admitting that Hermione had logic in her way of thinking. 'I don't know how to weave anything, Hermione,' he confessed, shrugging and looking thoroughly confused.

'You don't have to,' Hermione said, walking over to the willow tree and pulling off thin branches. 'I know how so I'll make this while you find more fire wood and gather as much fruit as you know what they are.' Draco nodded, helped her break a particularly stubborn branch and went to follow her instructions.

Draco walked at a leisurely pace through the thick tropical forest, picking up as much dry branches and twigs as he could carry. Every time his arms got too full, he would go back to camp and dump the load and then head off in another direction to collect more. After an hour or so, he had collected a pile about five feet across and four feet high; enough to last them for at least a week or two.

Draco noticed his stomach beginning to growl so he picked up one of the severed pieces of his robe they had cut off the night before and used it as a basket to carry fruit. He glanced around, scrutinizing the trees to find recognizable plants and food products. He detected bananas, cocoanuts and what he thought were papayas. He accumulated as much as he could fit into his makeshift bag, a surprisingly large amount, and went back to the campsite.

The man carefully placed the fruit under the overhang, out of the sun, and sat in front of Hermione, watching her fingers weaving the willow withes with speed and efficiency. The weave was tight, probably waterproof, he thought, and large, approaching six feet in length and a steady three feet in width. That made Draco realize how long he had been gone. He glanced up at the sky, noting the placement of the clouds and the position of the blazing sun. 'It must be nearly noon,' he mused.

'Draco, could you wash some of those papayas and a banana each in the stream for lunch please?' Hermione asked, not once looking up from her work. Draco jumped, but nodded and picked up two papayas and two bananas from his bag.

He knelt by the clear stream and dipped the fruit one by one into the swift current. He rubbed them in the water until they were dirt-free and squeaky clean. Then, he carried them back and laid them in front of Hermione, awaiting approval. Hermione smiled at him and nodded before turning back to her weaving.

Soon enough, Hermione tied the last knot and placed down the large mat she had woven, stretching her fingers and wincing. 'They're a little stiff,' she informed Draco. 'Two and a half hours of weaving stiff branches really takes a lot out of them. I'm going to go wash my hands and then start lunch. It's about one-ish, I think,' she said, getting up and stretching.

Draco watched Hermione surreptitiously as she walked to the stream. He couldn't help himself when she bent down to wash her hands. He felt the heat rise in his neck and face so he averted his eyes, looking carefully at the mat Hermione had woven. It was definitely of the top quality. He picked it up gingerly, finding it pleasantly lightweight but sturdy. He placed it in front of outcrop, noticing that it was exactly the right size to wedge inside the hole tight enough not to be blown in by wind but loose enough to come out with a push from inside. It was perfect.

Hermione returned shortly, beaming at the obvious impression her weaving had made on the blonde boy. She placed a hand on his shoulder saying, 'Like it? It fits well. It will be completely serviceable.' Draco nodded, smiling back at her. Instinctively, he reached up and placed his hand on top of Hermione's. She was surprised, to say the least, but she didn't move his hand or her own.

They stood their comfortably for a moment or two, basking in the glow of a job well-done. They had a shelter and a fire and they knew how and where to get food and water. Suddenly Hermione jumped up and ran toward the stream.

'Hermione, what's up?' Draco asked, following her out of curiosity. Hermione was scooping out handfuls of mud from the riverbed. 'Why do you need mud?' Draco inquired, looking very confused. Why did they need mud? Hermione motioned for him to look at the sky to the east.

'The clouds are still far enough away to give us about three more hours of good sunlight,' she explained. 'That means we have enough time to truly waterproof our shelter. You don't want to get too wet out here, do you?' Draco shook his head.

'That still doesn't explain the mud,' he said, gesturing to her handful of muck. Hermione rolled her eyes.

'This isn't mud. It's clay,' she stated, as if it was obviously. 'If we spread this clay in an even layer over the mat, it will dry to a hard, waterproof covering that will both keep us dry, repel wind and sun, and make it last longer,' she explained. Draco smiled.

'Hermione, you are brilliant,' he said and it was sincere. Hermione blushed at his praise and hurried to start applying the clay, muttering something about wasting time. Draco smiled at her, grabbing a handful of the sticky, reddish goop and began to smear it on the mat as well.

The two new friends worked in companionable silence until the entire three by six rectangle of weave were covered with a thin layer of clay and was beginning to dry. Hermione sat back on her haunches, wiping the back of her sticky hand across her forehead in weariness, leaving a streak of the sticky clay on her face that made Malfoy chuckle.

'Well, we sure don't have to worry about getting out of shape,' she sighed, exhausted. Draco laughed and looked down at his hands. This was the dirtiest he had ever been, he was sure. The thought brought another chuckle to his throat and Hermione looked at him curiously.

'You know something really pitiful?' he asked.

'Yes, I know something really pitiful, but were you planning on telling me something in particular?' Hermione asked, smiling innocently. Draco looked at her incredulously and Hermione burst out laughing. 'Sorry, that's just something my dad used to do a lot. Whenever you would ask a question like that, you know, to lead into something you wanted to tell him, he would say something weird like that,' she explained.

'Okay then,' Draco said sniggered.

'Ooh, say 'guess what,' Hermione instructed. When he looked confused, she elaborated. 'It's something else my dad used to do. I just want to show you.' He nodded.

'Guess what?' he said, looking at her warily. Hermione was trying to stifle her giggles, very unsuccessfully.

'Okay, I'll play your silly little game. What?' she said with feigned interest. Then, at the exact same time, Draco and Hermione both started to laugh. When they had finally stopped, Hermione looked at the sky and gasped. Draco looked up and saw that the clouds, heavy and dark, were almost on top of them.

'We really, really need to get the fire and food in the shelter before it rains,' Hermione said, scrambling to her feet and snatching up the food. 'How are we going to get the fire in there?'

'Hermione, calm down,' Draco said soothingly. 'Just get some more bark and twigs, like we were going to start a new one, and put them in the shelter. We get a stick burning on one end and then can start a new one in there from that stick. The real problem is the fire wood. It won't burn if it's wet, will it?' he pointed out, concernedly.

Hermione shook her head and went off to get the tinder. Draco looked at the huge pile of dry wood they had accumulated and sighed. There was no way to fit it all in the shelter and he had no way to cover them. Or did her? Draco hit his palm on his forehead. How could he have been so stupid. He was a wizard, wasn't he? He pulled his wand out, pointed it at the pile of wood and said clearly, 'Impervious,' a faint blue light was emitted from his wand and transferred to the wood. It died down and Draco smiled.

Hermione returned with a pile of bark and such and placed it in a small clump in the shelter. She hurriedly grabbed a small burning stick from the fire and added it to the tinder, adding gradually larger wood until she had a good sized fire going. Then she came to stand beside him, looking worried.

'Did you figure something else out?' she asked anxiously. He nodded then looked over at the woven mat covering the entrance to their makeshift shelter. 'You know, the same simple spell would have worked on that thing, too, instead of the mud, the clay,' he said, feeling a bit stupid for not having thought of it before they wasted all that time.

'What spell did you use?' she reiterated.

'Impervious,' he said, turning to go back to the shelter with an armful of wood for the new fire. 'Water just slides off. When we take the spell off, it will be completely dry. See what I mean? We could have done the same thing instead of doing all this clay stuff.' Hermione nodded, following him under the outcrop.

'Omigod, I am _starving_,' Hermione moaned, flopping down on her palm frond mattress. 'Where are those fruits you washed for lunch?' Draco fetched them from outside and handed them to Hermione. 'Oh, I wish I had a knife or something,' she complained but she just took out her wand, aimed carefully at one of the papayas, and said, 'Diffindo.'

It split cleanly into quarters and she placed it on the flat rock she had used to cook the carrots the day before. She repeated the process on the other papaya and then handed one banana to Draco and took the other for herself. They ate the bananas while they waited for the papayas to cook through. They were sweet, not quite ripe, but they still tasted good. Hermione pulled the papayas away from the fire to allow them to cool after about ten minutes.

'They smell delicious,' Draco commented, his mouth watering and his stomach grumbling. Hermione licked her lips and nodded, looking around for something to use as plates. 'We don't need to put them on anything, Hermione, just eat them here.' Hermione glanced around once more and then, finding nothing plate-like, shrugged and picked up one of the succulent, juicy pieces of fruit with her fingers.

Draco also picked one up and put it in his mouth, relishing the taste as the juices trickled down his chin. He wiped them away with the pack of his sleeve. They ate their way through the other slices and then they just sat around the fire. The rain had started and the pitter-patter of the drops on the mat was a soothing lullaby. No one said anything. No one had anything to say.

Hermione stared into the fire, her knees drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around then and he chin resting on her arms. She glanced over to Draco. He was sitting cross-legged, his elbows on his knees and his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with a hole in his severed robes, also enraptured by the flickering flames. He's perfect, she thought. Then she shoved the thought out of her head. She wasn't supposed to think about him like that. But, of course, how could she not?

Draco had certainly matured from their first year. He had started out as a pale, angular and prissy little child but now he was nearly a man. His body had been tanned and sculpted from his five years on the Quidditch team, not quite so pale. It hung naturally in his face now. He had grown to be quite tall, nearly six three, and he had filled out in the chest a bit. It's not like he was a body builder, or anything, but Hermione preferred the flat, wiry muscles to the big bulging ones. He was definitely a well built young man.

Draco's features were soft, his fair blonde hair often falling in his face. He once admitted that he used to use hair gel but he had, thankfully, abandoned that look years ago. But they best part were those eyes. His eyes were a beautiful compelling shade that could take on so many hues. In the sunlight it looked nearly crystal blue, sparkling and clear, but in the shimmering firelight it looked like an arcane iron grey.

But she often saw another shade and she wasn't sure what it indicated. Sometimes, when he looked at her, his eyes took on a cobalt hue, deep, infinite and shrouded in mystery. She could stare into those dark eyes for hours and still not know what that shade meant and she wasn't all that sure she wanted to know.

Hermione sighed and, realizing that she had been staring at Draco, blushed and looked back into the heart of the fire and she quickly became spellbound by the flickering light and warmth, leaping higher, tongues of flame licking over and around each individual branch, all striving for something out of their reach. They cast restless shadows on the stone walls, reflecting themselves in Hermione's warm, honey-colored eyes.

Draco crossed his legs, resting his elbows on them. He gazed into the fire, watching the flames meld together, slowly devouring each and every bit of the logs and branches that they could reach. They clamored and fought each other, with one tall tongue of flame eventually winning out, surpassing all the rest and disappearing into the night. He heard the girl across from him sigh. He glanced up and did a double-take.

Hermione was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them and her chin resting on her arms. He took a moment to study her, and he noticed that she certainly had matured since the first time he had seen her. She was no longer the bossy, buck-toothed know-it-all little girl he had met. Now she was a beautiful, bright and intuitive young woman.

Hermione had filled out with curves in all the right places. She wasn't too tall, but she wasn't short either, at about five seven. She had long, legs to full hips, a taught stomach to sizable breasts, slim shoulders and a long neck. Her face was utterly beautiful. Her features were refined, full lips and a small, dainty nose, slightly upturned. Her eyes, her captivating eyes, were rimmed with long, thick lashes. Her hair was no longer frizzy or bushy, but sleek and shiny, falling in gentle curls to mid back.

But Draco's gaze lingered on her eyes. They could appear as a range of colors depending on her mood and surroundings. Her eyes outside in the sunlight were a pale, iridescent amber, but in the firelight, her eyes darkened to an intense chocolate brown. But sometimes, when she looked at him, her eyes turned the deepest, unfathomable honey brown that he could imagine. They mesmerized and enthralled him to no end. She was unquestionably a striking woman.

Draco noticed that he had been gaping at Hermione so he turned back to watch the fire again. It was peaceful at first but he quickly lost interest and the silence became awkward. Each teen was uncomfortably aware of the other but no one spoke and that made them more so.

Eventually, Draco decided that he was tired. He stretched his hands above his head. 'I'm going t-t-to b-bed,' he said, stifling a yawn. He got up into a crouch and made his way to his pile of palm fronds. He laid down with his back turned toward Hermione. Soon, he heard the rustle of leaves that meant she had gone to bed as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The next morning, Hermione awoke suddenly to an inherent fear and consuming loneliness. It was dark, the screen was still in place, but it was still raining outside. She could hear the sound of the rain spattering on the rock overhand and the soft, comforting sounds of Draco's breathing.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight against the pressure mounting in the back of her eyes and she struggled to swallow the sob fighting to escape her constricted throat. She sat up and hugged her knees tightly to her chest, rocking back and forth slightly, and let her hopelessness and loneliness get the better of her.

Hermione's chest felt empty, her heart a black hole, empty and devoid of any happiness. She felt only a yawning barrenness where pleasure and contentment used to be a standard. Just then she realized, no one was going to find them. They had no way to find out where they were and, even if they did, how would they get there? Would they even be alive when they did? She knew her rudimentary knowledge of survival could sustain them for awhile but for how long? Not very.

Draco stirred, awakened by the moaning and sniffling of the girl across the campsite. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, only to see Hermione curled up in a corner, tears streaming down her face and her face screwed up against the howl she was trying to suppress. His heart ached at the sight of her so alone and miserable and he quietly crawled over to her.

Hermione didn't see him, didn't hear him, but if she did, she didn't acknowledge him in any way. She continued to fight against her emotions as silently as possible. Draco put his hand on her shoulder and whispered, 'Hermione?' It was more than she could take.

Hermione spun around so she was on her knees and threw her arms around his neck. Draco was surprised, after all, he had been her mortal enemy two days ago. Hermione had been feeling so lonely, so desolate, that any human contact was welcomed, needed desperately. Draco hugged her back, trying to give her the security he knew she sought for, the companionship and closeness.

Hermione clung to Draco, pressing herself tightly against him, trying to engulf herself entirely in his strong arms. He held her mutely, able to offer nothing but his company and sympathy. Hermione looked him in the eye, her eyes clouded with tears.

'Draco,' she whispered, her lower lip trembling almost as much as her voice. 'They're never coming for us.' Draco stared at her.

'Don't say that, Hermione,' he said steadily even though his insides had turned cold at the thought, clutching her arms to support her shaking form. 'All we can do is hope, it's all we have left. I may not have anyone coming for me, but you certainly do. You have people who love you, who'll miss you and want to get you back.'

'How can you say that?' Hermione asked, appalled.

'What do you mean? Everyone likes you,' he said, confused.

'No, no, not that,' she said, shaking her head slightly and looking at him earnestly. 'How in the world can you say no one will be looking for you? There must be someone who will miss you. Everyone has someone who loves them and you're no exception. You've got to have someone, you're parents or someone,' she insisted, pulling back from him a bit. Draco shook his head and let go of her, sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees, his head bowed.

'No, not really,' he said sadly. 'Of course my parents would _pretend_ to be upset and all but, in truth, they'd be glad to get rid of me. I would know, they've told me so many times. I was a mistake, a contraceptive spell gone wrong, and I've been a burden on them my entire life. Why else would I try so hard to be just like my father? I was just trying to get his approval, his love, but I could never do enough. It was always, 'If only we could have had a daughter,' and 'Why can't you be more like your father?' and 'You'll never be good enough to live up to your name.' You wouldn't believe what I had to put up with growing up. They won't miss me one bit,' he finished quietly.

Hermione pulled him into another embrace and he hugged her back wholeheartedly, pouring his sadness out into the sympathetic girl he had always detested. He had opened a long healed wound buried deep inside him, hidden from view. He had convinced himself that he had the near-perfect life and if he could only try a bit harder it would be ideal, but he had only deluded himself. His life was anything but perfect.

When he pulled back, Draco wiped his eyes and smiled. Keeping his feelings of inadequacy inside had slowly eaten away at him until he was more dead than alive, a walking corpse with a pulse but no feelings, no reason to live. He felt as though a poison had been extracted leaving him whole again.

'Thank you, Hermione,' he said weakly, hesitantly. He had never thanked anyone before and his childhood rearing had ingrained upon him the inferiority of muggleborns. 'for listening. I've never told anyone that before.'

'You don't need to thank me, Draco,' Hermione said, smiling tenderly at him. 'That's what friends are for and, yes, I do consider myself your friend. I like you. No matter what our past has put us through, I'm willing to put it all aside to be your friend. Agreed?' she asked, holding her hand out for him to shake. He looked at her hand, then back up to her. He smiled and hugged her instead.

'Thank you, Hermione,' he whispered into her hair, breathing in the fruity smell of it. They held each other for what seemed like hours though, in reality, it was more like a minute. 'The rain, it's stopped,' he pointed out.

And it had. The soothing pitter patter of raindrops was gone to be replaced by a cacophony of tropical birdsong and sunlight was filtering through the gaps in the mud covering the woven mat. Hermione sighed, breathing in the intoxicating fresh smell of rain, and stirred up the coals of the fire to a new blaze.

'I'm thirsty,' Hermione complained, giving the mat a good shove. It fell backwards, allowing the sun to hit them with unforgiving intensity. The day was already in full swing, the sun nearly at it's zenith, and everything was covered with glistening water drops, making it look like a sparkling utopia of tropical glory.

Hermione rushed over to the engorged stream, nearly overflowing it's banks, and drank a few handfuls of the cool water. Draco followed suit and they both sat down by the bank. She shaded her eyes with her hand and scanned the skies.

'No more clouds,' she said positively. 'That's a good thing, some clear weather will give us time to stock up on food. That reminds me, we need to make some baskets to gather and store food, hold water and protect our things. I'll teach you how to weave. Even if your first attempts aren't all that good, they can still be used to collect things,' she said, beginning to gather basket-making materials. She got ferns, palm leaves and even the inner bark of some of the trees. She laid them out beside the fire to let them dry.

'Come here and I'll show you how to make cord while the basket-making materials dry,' she ordered. Draco acquiesced and she handed him some of the inner bark, keeping some for herself.

'Take one end of the bark in this hand and twist this end around and around until the strand starts to curl up on itself,' Hermione instructed, demonstrated the technique. Draco tentatively tried to copy her motions and, to his surprise, the strand did the same thing.

'Good,' Hermione praised. 'Next, hold the strand out tight and find the middle of it. Then you hold the middle in your teeth and fold it in half. Then let go and it makes some good rope. Like this.' She showed him everything she had said and a good strong rope about four feet long.

Draco was very hesitant about putting the bark strips in his mouth but he eventually made himself do it. He followed Hermione's instructions and finished a decent rope much like hers. 'Look, Hermione, it's not half bad, is it?' he asked, his voice bursting pride.

'It's pretty good for a first try,' Hermione agreed, examining his rope happily. 'Then we can attach these two to make a longer rope. See the holes where the rope doubled back on itself? Hand me another couple of strips. Thanks. We can tie these together to make it longer and then we just tie the ends closed. See? Now we have a nice long, sturdy rope.' Draco examined the rope and deemed it very strong and resilient, perfect for life in the wild.

'Okay, so I know how to make rope. Is the basket-making stuff dry yet?' he asked, eager to further his survival knowledge. He had never known the satisfaction of a job well done and he was thoroughly enjoying it. Hermione checked the materials and carried over some of the ferns. She didn't give him any, though. Instead she began to weave.

'Watch my hands,' she said. Draco watched her hands intently, studying and memorizing everything she did, when she did it, and how she did it. He scrutinized her every move and just how it looked when she was through. She didn't give him any directions, just handed him some ferns.

Draco began to weave slowly, carefully, trying to remember exactly what she had done. He was a little clumsy, he had never done it before, but his basket didn't fall apart. It was a little lopsided, the stitches a bit uneven and loose, but Hermione praised his efforts nevertheless.

'This is wonderful for a first time, Draco,' she said proudly, the true praise of a teacher to an excelling pupil. 'A little practice and you can be quite good. This can be our first fruit collecting basket. Speaking of fruit,' Hermione said, rubbing her stomach. 'I'm starving. I'll go collect some fruit. You can practice making baskets or rope while I'm gone. I'll make a lid for this one later.'

With that, Hermione picked up the basket and walked off to the shade of the forest to collect fruit. She collected another fairly large clump of bananas, a couple of mangos, some papayas and even a rare find of oranges. She was soon heavily laden with fruit and she was whistling happily by the time she returned to camp.

'Hermione!' Draco called, looking up and waving as she entered the clearing. 'Look! I've made three more baskets and I've gotten a lot better!'

Hermione set down the fruit and examined the baskets he had made in her absence. Yes, he had made a great improvement from his first. It was obvious which was made first, it was rather loose but it wasn't as lopsided. The next was a bit tighter weave but a few stitches had been dropped, creating holes. The last was much better, with a looser weave to prevent dropped stitches, and it wasn't lopsided at all.

'Wow, Draco, it's obvious you're a natural,' Hermione said, a bit awed by his quick learning. 'You really picked up on this fast.' Draco was beaming at her praise, practically glowing with pride.

'Can you show me how to make lids for these?' he asked keenly. Hermione smiled at him and sat down across from him.

'Of course, Draco,' she said cheerfully. 'I'll show you anything and everything I know.' She beamed at him and he beamed back, his eyes filled with eager anticipation and hers with pride and amusement.

Hermione spent much of the day instructing Draco in crafts, correcting him where he made mistakes, praising him when he didn't, and encouraging him when he got frustrated. It was obvious that he had never had this sort of caring attention and Hermione was glad to be the one to finally give it to him.

'That's wonderful, Draco,' she said. 'Now we have six food storage baskets with matching lids, three fruit collecting baskets with carrying straps, and four water tight baskets to hold drinking water for whenever we can't go out to get it from the stream, like when it's raining or too dark to see,' she said, piling the baskets in their respective categories.

'Great. Now that we're fully stocked, what do we do?' Draco asked, lounging back on the sand.

'Now we fill the baskets and organize everything,' she said, standing up and dusting her hands off on her robes.

'Draco, you go fill the water baskets bring them back up here. Be sure not to fill them too full or you might rip the baskets,' she instructed, pushing the four baskets into his arms. He nodded and turned toward the stream.

Draco dipped them into the water, firmly holding them against the current. He lifted them out, surprised by their sudden weight. And hobbled back to the campsite, leaving the baskets where Hermione indicated.

'Uh, Hermione? Where should I go if I have to, uh…go?' he asked awkwardly, not looking at her. She blushed and scanned the surrounding area.

'Well, that area over there doesn't have much useful vegetation so I guess we could go there,' she said, leading him over to it. 'But we should get what we can out of it before we do. Go get a collecting basket.'

They picked what they could from the surrounding trees, for the didn't want to come here too often for food if they could help it. Then Hermione left, blushing again, so Draco could go. She came back about twenty minutes later, her arms full of stones to block off this section of forest as restrooms.

Draco felt considerably better after that and decided to go out for some more food. He took all three collecting baskets and brought them back full to the brim. Hermione arranged them in the storage baskets, leaving out some papayas, bananas and carrots for dinner, and they both sat back to admire their handiwork.

The clearing was aglow with the light from the fire. It illuminated a much different scene from when they had arrived. There were thirteen baskets, all full of various items, lining their living space under the outcrop, there was a fire crackling merrily. There were palm frond beds with two teenagers lounging peacefully upon them, waiting for their food to finish cooking. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, squirming in the rough fabric of their ripped and torn school robes.

'Tomorrow I think we should figure out how to make new clothes,' she said, sitting up again. 'I hate these robes. They are so uncomfortable.' Draco nodded, looking at their depressingly frayed and savaged garb.

'What would we make them out of? Palm fronds, bark and leaves? It will at least have to be comfortable and basket-making materials, I'm afraid to say, would not be the most comfy array,' Draco said, sitting up as well and reaching for the food. He bit into a papaya slice, hardly noticing it's tangy flavor. Hermione began to eat as well.

'Oh, I don't know, but we'll figure something out,' Hermione said reassuringly. 'We've come this far to making this place homey, we should be able to decipher textiles without too much difficulty.' Draco yawned and leaned back, his hands behind his head, smiling.

'I hope you're right, Hermione,' he sighed, secretly doubting if they could uncover the secret of making clothes as they had fire, food and baskets. He had been hoping to leave the task of clothing to her, the girl, but doubted she would let him sit out any task that he had helped to initiate just because he was a boy and cloth-making wasn't very masculine.

'G'night, Draco,' Hermione said contentedly, her stomach full and mind at ease. She rolled over and yawned, putting the clothing to the back of her mind. Draco smiled at her.

'G'night, Hermione,' he replied. Then he drifted off to sleep, feeling more satisfied than he ever had off of the island. Hermione seemed to have that effect on him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Draco sat up and yawned, stretching his arms up above his head. He looked over to see Hermione still fast asleep. He decided to let her sleep in a bit. He got up and made his way to the food baskets, pulling out two papayas. He stoked the fire, sliced the fruit and set it by the fire to cook.

'Hermione,' Draco whispered, leaning over her. She didn't respond. She seemed so innocent and angelical when she slept. Her hair draped lightly across her face, fluttering slightly with her breathing. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes contrasting with her pale skin.

'Hermione,' he said, a little more insistently, shaking her slightly. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him blearily. 'Breakfast's ready,' he said, pulling her up to a sitting position.

'Aw, breakfast in bed. How clichéd,' she said teasingly, tasting the juicy papaya slice he presented to her. 'Thanks.'

The two sat and ate in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Draco frowned a bit, troubled by something, their stupidity most likely.

'Hermione? Why didn't we just use incendio to start the fire instead of spending two hours twirling that stupid stick?' he asked slowly, berating himself for not thinking of it sooner. They had wasted so much time! What was the point in being a wizard if he didn't use magic when the opportunity presented itself?

'Well, honestly, I hadn't thought of that,' Hermione replied, eating the last papaya slice. 'But, now that you mention it, I think it's good we didn't. We need to be able to do things the muggle way, too. At least, we do out here,' she replied calmly. Draco gaped at her.

'Are you mad?' he asked quietly. 'How much time did we waste that we could have been using for better purposes? We could have used incendio for the fire, accio to get the fruit and food, and so many other things!'

'Think about it. What if our wands got broken or lost? What would we do then? If we had used magic for all that stuff, we wouldn't know how to survive without them. We would be completely dependent on them. Without them, we would _die_. Now that we know how to do things without magic, we can survive even without our wands. Sure, they make things easier but we don't really need them now. Our knowledge needs to be our greatest tool, not our wands,' she said.

Draco thought this speech over and had to admit that she had logic. He shuddered to think what would happen to him if his wand broke, or Hermione's. 'Okay. I guess that makes sense,' he said grumpily. 'Well, can we use our wands to make new clothes? These are getting really ripe,' he asked, plucking at his robes.

'I guess so, since we probably should make more than one outfit each so we don't have to make more later,' she said, pulling out her wand and twirling it between her fingers. 'What could we use?'

'Well, if we had needles and thread we could use the material of our robes to make more comfortable clothes. I wonder if that spell to change matches into needles would work on anything else,' Draco suggested, picking up a twig about the size of a matchstick. He gave the spell a go and, to his delight, it worked. The twig turned silver and sharpened into a point. He presented it to Hermione smugly.

'Terrific! Wait. Since we're using our robes to make the new clothes, what do we wear while we make them?' she asked uncomfortably. No matter the change in her feelings toward him, and the undeniable fact that he was hot, she didn't particularly want to be seen in her underwear.

'Oh, uh…I don't know,' he confessed, also ill at ease with being seen in his underwear, especially by this particular girl, the one he had come to care about. 'We could work on them separately,' he suggested.

'Or we could just suck it up and see each other. Face it. We're living together on a deserted island, it's inevitable that we'll see each other at one time or another,' Hermione pointed out, though it was a particularly awkward option.

'Uh, okay,' Draco said shyly. Blushing deeply, he pulled his robes over his head and spreading them out on his lap, leaving him in only his boxers, carefully avoiding Hermione's eyes.

Hermione did the same, though much more self-consciously. After all, she had a lot more to hide, and her bra and underwear felt like nothing at this particular moment. She felt the color rise in her cheeks as she stole a sidelong glance at the young man sitting alongside her, eyes downcast in embarrassment.

Draco's chest was muscled and lean and he had a solid eight pack. He was slender and well built. When he looked up at her, she blushed deeper and looked down again. He studied her in return, noting her taut stomach and hourglass figure. He didn't linger, it wouldn't be proper, but looked down once more.

After a few more moments of mutual embarrassment, Draco picked up another small twig and transfigured it into another needle. 'So, uh, what kind of clothes do we need out here?' he asked, trying to bring Hermione out of her shyness by asking for directions. Appealing to her efficient side helped pull her back to her senses a bit. She thought it over for a moment, considering the climate and their needs.

'Well, it needs to be loose enough to move around in but tight enough not to fall off with strenuous activities. It needs to be cool enough so that you don't overheat in the sun but warm enough so you don't freeze at night. For you, some shorts would be sufficient, I guess. That's all you really need, right?' she asked, looking him in the eye for the first time.

'Sure,' he said. He stood up and held up his robes. He cut off the bottom strip of fabric, as they had done when they arrived, and cut a slit down the middle. Then, using the needles they had created and some crushed fibers, he sewed up the sides of the slit to make leg holes. It wasn't a masterpiece but it was serviceable.

He put them on but them kept falling low on the hips, too low to keep them on for very long. Finally, getting aggravated, he thread a thicker strand of fibers through holes he cut around the top and tied them closed in the front as a drawstring. Now he had loose shorts, about knee length, with a drawstring at the top so they wouldn't fall off. Much better than robes.

'Perfect,' he said. He tossed the remainder of his robes in an spare basket, in case they needed them for something later. 'Your turn, Hermione.' Hermione stood up and held her robes up against her.

'What should I have? Shorts and a tank top or something?' she asked, thinking of what kind of shirt she should wear. He nodded his approval. She made her shorts much the same as Draco had, only about six inches shorter, to about mid thigh.

For the shirt, she cut the sleeves off of the robes entirely and cropped the bottom to about her navel. To make it tighter and less breezy, she cut a wide strip out of the back and re-sewed it closed again so that it fit snuggly. She put the outfit on and smiled, satisfied with her efforts.

'Okay. So these outfits will last awhile, right?' Hermione said, putting the scraps left from her robes in the basket with Draco's, sitting back beside him. 'I don't think we have enough material left for anything else,' she said disappointedly, looking at the meager remainders of their Hogwarts attire.

'Well, these should last us for as long as we need them to,' Draco said bracingly. 'Eventually, we'll figure out something else, another material we can use. We're both highly intelligent and frugal people. We'll think of something else later.'

'Okay. But right now, I fancy a swim. You coming?' she asked, bearing toward their small stream. Draco followed behind her, smiling at the playfulness of it all. Hermione pulled off her new clothes, apparently over her embarrassment, and splashed into the water.

Draco copied her, pulling off his new shorts, and waded out to meet her. There was another moment of embarrassed silence before Hermione splashed water at him. He splashed back, laughing, and Hermione swam away teasingly. He chased her upstream until she disappeared behind the curtain of long streamers draping down from the weeping willow. He hesitated, then pushed them aside.

Hermione was spread out on the rock on shore, the sun bathing her shining skin in dappled light. She looked like an angel, so beautiful, so perfect was she. Draco was momentarily stunned by her beauty. She looked up, and slid back into the water, swimming out to meet him.

The hanging tendrils meant that the light came through in thin shafts, seeming like a cage of light surrounding them, an ethereal paradise. The water was cool, the air was warm and the mood was perfect. Hermione swam in lazy circles around Draco, smiling at him, her wet hair framing her face with dark curls.

Draco, on impulse, grabbed her hand and pulled her around to face him. They were close enough to the shore to stand comfortably, with the water at about chest height. He held her hands tightly and gazed intently into her honey colored eyes, trying to convey a message unbeknownst to both of them.

Hermione stared back, baffled again as to the meaning hidden in that deep shade of cobalt blue. They held her captivated, enthralled. Neither moved, both too enraptured by the other to think at all. They were letting their instincts guide them now.

Slowly, Draco let go of Hermione's hands, and she let them drop to his chest. He placed his hands carefully on her hips and pulled her closer. She didn't protest, and he took it as a sign to continue. He slowly, almost imperceptibly, leaned forward, beginning to close the gap between them. His heart was pounding like a drum, he was so nervous.

Hermione caught the movement and her breath caught in her throat. She wasn't scared, just hesitant. She had turned down so many others. Was she sure this the one she wanted to let in? This unexpected someone that had somehow managed to capture her guarded heart in just a few days? She knew the answer to that question.

Hermione leaned forward a bit as well, getting a fraction closer. She closed her eyes expectantly, Draco leaned in a tiny bit more, and stopped. After a few tense seconds, they moved simultaneously, tilting forward the tiniest bit until their lips connected.

All thought was extinguished. Draco was euphoric, the feel of Hermione's soft, sweet lips against his blissful. Hermione's hands slid from Draco's chest up to his shoulders and then around his neck, pulling him closer yet.

After a moment or two, they pulled away. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to still her heart. She failed. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to capture that feeling and lock it in her heart forever. She never wanted to forget that moment.

Draco looked at her. Her chest was rising and falling gracefully, her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open. He decided she was more beautiful now than she had ever been before, if that was possible.

Hermione opened her eyes to find Draco looking at her. They stared into each other's eyes for another instant before he dropped his gaze. He let go of her quickly and took a step back, much to Hermione's displeasure.

'I, uh, hope that was okay,' he mumbled, looking down and going red in the face once more. Hermione chuckled a bit, making him look back up at her. She was smiling at him.

'Draco, of course that was okay,' she said. 'That was more than okay, that was perfect.' Draco smiled at her. She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his again, a sweet slow kiss just like their first.

'We should probably go stoke the fire,' Draco said when she pulled away. She nodded. 'We'll just dry off a bit first,' he said, climbing up onto the sun drenched rock and patting the space beside him.

They lay in the sun until they were mostly dry, then made their way slowly back to the campsite, giving each other small pecks all the way. They went about the rest of the day in a sort of blissful daze. There was no question about it; everything was perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hermione awoke with a feeling of security and warmth. She looked at the young man lying beside her, his arms encircling her and holding her tightly. Draco Malfoy had kissed her. And she had kissed back. Wow. That was unexpected.

But, of course, some sort of love is always expected when you know you'll be stuck together for a long time, possibly your entire lives! Be that as it may, Hermione's heart was as warm as it had ever been. She made no move to get up, only nestled back into Draco's chest, wishing the sun would go back down and she would never have to leave the sanctuary of his embrace.

Draco stirred and opened his eyes. He kissed Hermione lightly on the cheek, sending shivers through her, and sat up, stretching. 'Morning, love,' he said fondly, beaming at her. He, too, felt happier than he had in his life, though that would be easy considering his life.

'Morning, love,' she repeated, sitting up next to him and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 'I'll start breakfast, you stoke the fire.' He nodded, heading to the woodpile. He took some good sized logs and piled them close to the fire, feeding them to it slowly until it was blazing.

Hermione handed him a banana and an orange, then offered him a drink from a water basket, all of which he accepted gratefully. They ate quietly, stealing furtive loving glances at one another occasionally, though somehow missing the others' eyes each time.

When they were done, Draco sat back and waited for Hermione to say something. She was silent. 'So, what do we need to do today?' he asked, feeling a bit lost without work that needed to be done, a feeling he was definitely not accustomed to.

'Well, I don't really know,' Hermione admitted, sounding a little disoriented herself. 'We have a fire and enough wood to keep it fed for a week, we have baskets full of food and water, we have shelter, we have clothing, what else do we need?' she asked.

'I don't know, but what I do know is that I am getting really tired of papayas and bananas and oranges and everything like it,' Draco said distastefully, looking disgustedly at the fruit in his hands. 'Isn't there anything else to eat?'

'Well, if you'd like to go kill some animals-' Hermione began.

'Yes! Yes I would!' Draco exclaimed. 'I am going crazy from lack of meat! I just can't survive without meat. I was raised on steak and pheasant, I can't go for long without meat of some kind,' he complained, holding his stomach.

Hermione had noticed it, too. Their lack of energy, a bit of moodiness, all of it pointed to one thing: deficiencies. 'As much as I hate the thought of killing an animal, I think you're right. We need meat. Well, more than meat, we need the fat and protein that meat provides. All we need is the means to hunt. We have no weapons and no skills, for that matter,' Hermione confessed, thinking over what methods she had read about.

'We need a spear or something, right?' Draco asked, not knowing really anything about the subject, once again realizing his own ignorance.

'Yes. But before we can make weapons, we need to make tools. We can't make anything without tools. Do you know what flint looks like?' Hermione asked. He nodded. 'Go look for some. Look along the streambed, find as many pieces as you can. I'm going to look for a hammerstone and see if I can remember how to do this,' she said worriedly.

Draco set off along the bank of the stream, looking for the chunks of chalky grey stone called flint. All the stones along the bank looked the same and the search was tedious but, as he rounded a bend in the stream about fifty yards past the weeping willow, he hit the jackpot.

Scattered all around were hand-sized nodules of grey flint. They littered the bank and streambed for a good five feet in every direction. He picked up as many as he could carry, surprised at how heavy it was, and carried them back to the camp.

Meanwhile, Hermione examined the stones at the edge of the stream, looking for one that fit comfortably in her hand. She found a suitable one and began to look for something to use as a retoucher. Downstream a ways, she found a skeleton, possibly a giant squirrel, and took the long thin femur and, after washing it thoroughly in the stream, headed back to camp.

Draco returned, his arms filled to the brim with flint. He deposited them next to her and sat down, worn out by the heavy chunks. He watched Hermione with interest when she picked up one of the chalky gray nodules, examining it closely. Then she struck it with the stone in her hand, knocking off a section of the chalky part, revealing the waxy, deep grey of the flint itself.

'This is a good piece,' Hermione stated, inspecting the stone critically. She continued to knock off pieces of the cortex until there was only a roughly egg-shaped lump of dark grey flint. 'Be a dear, Draco, and get me that flat rock we cook on,' she instructed without looking up. He did so and returned promptly.

Hermione put the rock on her lap and set the flint gently on top of it, careful not to chip it, yet. After a moment of thought and concentration, she proceeded to carefully knock off flakes of the flint, some of them fairly good sized, and all with razor sharp edges. After a couple of minutes, Hermione had produced four crude but serviceable knives, sharp-edged and wicked looking. Using the retoucher, she knocked off tiny flakes from the back of these knives to dull them just enough to be handled without cutting themselves.

'There we go,' she said, handing them to Draco delicately. 'I cannot believe I remembered how to do that from reading,' she said, sounding both amazed and relieved. Draco turned the knives over in his hand, very much astounded at how talented and knowledgeable Hermione really was.

'Where did you say you learned this again, Hermione?' he asked.

'Out of a series of books,' she replied, stretching her fingers; they were starting to cramp up from how tightly she had been clutching the hammerstone, trying to gain the precision she needed for better handiwork.

'What series?' Draco asked curiously, putting the knives down on the rock, making sure not to chip any of the delicate edges. 'I really need to read these things.'

'They're called 'The Clan of the Cave Bear,' series. Well, I don't know if that's the real name, but that's the first book in the series. The others are 'The Valley of Horses', 'The Mammoth Hunters', 'Plains of Passage', and 'Shelters of Stone',' she informed him remembering with enthusiasm her favorite books.

'They're really interesting. It all takes place in Europe during the Ice Age! They detail the life of this girl, Ayla, who is a Cro-Magnon, you know she looks like us, when her clan is swallowed up in an earthquake. She wanders alone at five years old for awhile, is attacked by a huge cave lion, and is eventually picked up by a passing clan of Neanderthals. They take her in and then the first book tells of her life and times with them and, as for the rest of the books, you'll have to read them to find out,' she said happily, having to consciously restrain from detailing every aspect of every book, trying to summarize.

'Wow! she went through more crap than we have,' Draco admitted.

'Oh, you bet she did,' Hermione said, thinking over the rest of Ayla's journey, too extensive to tell Draco in just one day. 'But she does end up happy, mostly.'

'As soon as we get back, I really need to read these books,' Draco said, eagerly. Hermione smiled at him. He smiled back, and then his face fell as a thought he had worked so hard to suppress finally wormed its way unbidden into his mind: What if they never got back?

Hermione saw the change and, knowing what he was thinking of, forced a smile and playfully punched him in the shoulder. 'Come on, don't think like that. We'll get out of here eventually. Cheer up! We need to keep our spirits up. And you know I'll always be here for you,' she assured him. She leaned over and kissed him lightly.

Draco gratefully put his arms around her, appreciating fully how good she was at keeping his mood from going too far downhill. He nuzzled his face in her hair and rubbed her back, drawing comfort from the girl he had hated so recently. 'Thank you, Hermione.'

'Your welcome,' she replied, drawing back. 'I'm going to make a few more tools. You can go find some alder saplings to make into spears, okay? Thin and straight would be the best but I know how to get bends out of it if we really need to.' Draco nodded and headed toward the tree line.

Hermione roughed out a hand axe, another knife or two, and a burin, to make holes in wood or bone, from that one piece of flint before tossing the rippled and scarred core into the stream to be carried back downstream.

She put the tools, hammerstone and retoucher into a basket, along with several nodules of flint, and secured the lid on tightly; there was no way she was going to lose such an unparalleled advantage to the elements. She kept out the hand axe and set out in the direction Draco had gone, to make sure he knew what tree he was looking for.

She found him at a small grove of tall, thin, straight trees, examining a couple of them. 'Good, you found some,' she said. Draco jumped and turned around; he obviously hadn't heard her following him.

'Hermione! Don't scare me like that,' he said. 'How many do we need and how do we get them down?' he asked, gesturing to the trees.

'These are good trees for spears,' Hermione comment, looking them over. 'I think we should take four, two for each of us. And we cut them down with a hand axe. It'll take awhile but it'll be worth it when we get meat,' she said, handing him the axe. 'Let's get this one first.'

They took turns pounding away relentlessly at the trees. The trees ended up looking more gnawed than cut. The hand axe had to be a certain thickness so it wouldn't break, but that also made it rather blunt. It tended to cut small chips out of the wood rather than slicing through it. Draco paused to wipe his brow of the sweat that had accumulated there.

'We need to find a better way to do this,' he panted.

'This is the last one. Make it through this and the rest will be relatively easy,' Hermione assured him. He nodded and began chopping again. A few more swings and the small tree swayed. Draco went around the other side of the tree, ready to catch it, and Hermione gave it a good hard push from that side. It toppled with a resounding crack.

'Great, how are we supposed to get four trees back to the camp?' Draco griped. 'I'm already exhausted and I'm hungry and thirsty.'

'Oh, quit whining, you big baby,' Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 'We can take them back one at a time, then we can eat and rest. After that, we need to cut them off to the right length, shape them for balance, and sharpen the points,' she said, ticking them off on her fingers as she spoke.

'Okay.' Draco hoisted one end of the small tree, nonetheless heavy, and Hermione took the other. They made their way clumsily back to the campsite, making sure to track their way so they could find the clearing again. They set it down and headed back for another.

They carried all four trees back to the campsite in that fashion, setting them down alongside each other. They measured them off to a good length and cut them off, two for each. Hermione roughed out two knives and took a chunk out of the edge, making them useful for shaving off tendrils of wood. They spent the rest of the day whittling down and shaping their new spears. Once they had the basic shape, they used stones and sand to grind it to a finished smoothness and prevent splinters.

'I think these turned out fairly well,' Draco said proudly, holding up a long straight shaft, polished fine. Hermione examined her own before responding.

'We're not done yet. We still need to sharpen the ends to points and fire-harden them. Preferably we can add flint tips or, after we get something, bone tips. Those take longer to make but they're not as brittle. They'll last longer. So, have you seen anything we could…hunt?' Hermione asked, feeling her stomach go a little ill at the thought.

'I think I saw a deer or something like that while I was picking fruit but it ran away really fast,' Draco said, thinking back. He had been picking papayas when he had startled the spotted roe deer out of it's grazing. It had bounded away immediately.

'Take me where you found it,' she said, propping her incomplete spear by the fire and standing up. He did the same and led her back to the papayas where he had found the deer.

Hermione examined the ground, crouching and moving slowly forward, following a trail. She motioned for him to be quiet, stood and pushed aside a small sapling gently. There was a large herd of the small deer grazing in a clearing, but they all looking up, startled, as they caught the humans' scent.

The deer did not leap away, they stood tensely, reading to run at any sign of danger. Not frightened, but wary, of the strange creatures observing them. Hermione released the tree, which swept back into place, and led Draco back to the grove they had started at so they could speak normally again.

'Wow,' Hermione whispered. Draco thought she looked more beautiful than ever. Her hair was a little disheveled, her mouth was slightly open, her eyes were glistening with excitement.

'I know what you mean. I've never been that close to a wild animal before,' Draco admitted, a little awed. 'So, we're going to try and kill one of those deer with a clumsily made wooden spear?' he asked, doubtful that they would get any results.

'Well, almost,' Hermione said, beginning the walk back to camp. 'First we need to observe them, find where they drink, where they feed, where they sleep, and when they do all of the above,' she listed, her eyes misting over as she remembered the books.

'Why do we need to know all of that?' Draco asked, annoyed at the time he knew these observations were sure to take. 'Can't we just run up, stab one and be done with it?'

'No!' Hermione exclaimed. 'You saw how fast they can be! They're very quick, sure-footed, agile, everything we probably aren't. The only way to get one of these things on the first try is to build a pit trap.'

Draco gave her a questioning look. 'A pit trap is a pit that we trap an animal in so that we can get close enough to kill it.' Hermione said, rolling her eyes. 'The name is fairly self-explanatory. We need to build one where it'll be hard to see, or cover it with a thatch, on the path they usually follow to get water, or graze, or do something they regularly do.'

Draco thought over her explanation. It seemed very logical. 'Okay. What are we going to use to dig?' Hermione stopped in her tracks.

'Oh. I hadn't thought of that,' she admitted uneasily. 'Ayla used antlers and other bones from a pile near her cave but I'm pretty sure there aren't any moose around here to get antlers from and no mammoths to use the bones of,' she chuckled wearily. 'It all took place in the Ice Age. For all the things that are the same now, there are just as many that are different.'

'So what are we going to use?' Draco asked again as they reached their campsite.

'I don't know. Maybe we can find something to use and, if not, we can just scoop it out with our hands or maybe a basket,' Hermione said, sitting heavily down under the overhang. She put her face in her hands and sighed. Draco sat down beside her and tilted her chin up. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

'What's wrong, Hermione? Everything's going great,' he said quietly. Her bottom lip trembled, no matter how hard she tried to keep it from doing so, and her eyes watered.

'It's all just so much harder than I thought it would be,' she said. He pulled her close, holding her tightly. She clung to him, letting a few tears slip out.

'Sh. It's going to be okay,' Draco said soothingly, rubbing her back slowly. She pulled back a little, and he kissed her on the forehead. She smiled sheepishly at him.

'I'm sorry I keep getting so emotional like this,' she said, wiping her eyes and chuckling slightly. 'I mean, I'm the one that knows how to survive out here and yet I'm the one breaking down! That doesn't even make sense.'

'But you're also a girl,' Draco pointed out. 'And girls are always more emotional than guys. It does make sense that you'd need support! You're lonely and missing your friends and family. I don't have any friends or family to miss so, naturally, I'm not as lonely as you are,' he explained.

'Yeah, I guess you're right,' Hermione said. 'I love you,' she said softly, hugging him fiercely. Draco was taken aback, but hugged her also.

'I…I love you, too,' he said, hesitating slightly. He pulled her closer and kissed her lightly. '_No need to overdo things too early,' _he thought.

Hermione beamed at him and stood up, looking resolute and determined. 'We will find a way. It can't be that hard! And, after we start, it can only get better, right?' she said optimistically.

'Right,' Draco agreed, standing up and picking up his half-made spear. 'So, are you up to making us some nice spear points?'

'Even if I could we wouldn't be able to use them,' she said, picking up her own and hefting it critically. 'The only sturdy way to attach them is with sinew and a glue made of boiled hide and hooves, neither of which we will have until we have killed at least one animal. We're going to have to whittle and fire-harden these to points. It shouldn't be too hard.'

'Okay, let's start whittling,' Draco said, pulling on of the knives out of the basket. He and Hermione carefully shaped the spears for awhile until Hermione deemed it time for the fire-hardening. A sharp stick could kill a deer but it would be a lot easier if the wood wasn't so soft.

She held the last foot of her spear over the fire and rotated it slowly until it began to char. Then she pulled it back out of the fire and scraped off all of the charred wood. She repeated this process until the tip of the shaft was hard and very sharp, and then she aided Draco in the hardening of his spear.

When both of their spears were relatively serviceable, the two stood and hefted them, trying to get a good balance. 'Okay, so now we need to scout the deer and dig a pit trap,' Hermione said, more to herself than anyone else.

'And find some sort of shovel,' Draco reminded her. Hermione looked around at the clearing. She jumped a bit and grabbed a sharp stick from the wood pile.

'This! We can use this, or maybe something a little stronger, to pry up the dirt and then we scoop it into a basket and dump it out!' she said excitedly. Draco smiled at her enthusiasm.

'Great. So, let's go scout deer,' he said slowly. Hermione nodded and led the way back toward the clearing, bringing the spears with them just in case.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The couple crouched behind a clump of shrubs for about an hour before the deer even looked up from their grazing. The wind had changed direction, carrying their scent into the midst of the herd. They began edging toward the other side of the clearing.

Hermione, cursing their luck, began to crawl silently through the underbrush around the outer edge of the area. She motioned to Draco for him to go the other way, to surround them. He did so and stopped when he was directly across from Hermione. The deer settled down and began to graze again.

Draco, his stomach grumbling temperamentally, edged slowly closer to the herd, avoiding catching Hermione's frantic eye. He knew they weren't supposed to do anything yet but his hunger had been gnawing at him for awhile and he had to do something about it.

Hermione, watching Draco inch inward, swore under her breath and began to do the same. There was a doe standing apart from the rest, grazing quietly with a tree to her flank, almost separating her. Ideal conditions. She motioned repeatedly at the doe until Draco understood that they would try for her.

They both crept toward her, making her nervous and jumpy. The doe allowed them to get with four feet on either side before she tried to bolt. Draco leapt at her, jabbing his spear but only grazing her side. She veered toward Hermione, who also took a chance. She plunged the spear into the doe's flank, not a mortal wound but definitely debilitating.

It jerked, its hind legs giving way, and Draco lunged again, this time sinking his spear into its neck. It squealed pitifully before keeling over. Hermione dropped to her knees beside it, tears in her eyes, and stared at it, horrified at what they had done. Draco, absolutely shaken but trying not to show it, put a hand on her shoulder and felt her shaking.

'D-Draco, p-please run back to camp a-and get one of the kn-knives out of the b-b-basket, w-will you?' she said quietly, a tremor in her voice. He nodded and sped back toward the campsite.

Draco grabbed the whole basket of tools and ran back, hesitating at the edge of the clearing, unwilling to come back into the presence of the dead deer. He dropped down beside Hermione, who hadn't moved at all, and handed her the basic knife.

Hermione took a deep breath and took the knife. Forcing her hand to be steady and willing herself not to be sick, she slit the deer's throat all the way across. It immediately spurted blood. She jumped to her feet and ran to the edge of the clearing, throwing up as soon as she got there. Draco followed her and patted her back, trying very hard not to be sick with her.

She straightened up unsteadily and walked back to the deer. She watched in silence as the deer continued to bleed.

'Uh, why did you slit its throat?' Draco asked her tentatively. She gulped before answering.

'You have to let it bleed out or it'll bloat,' she said shakily. He nodded and watched for another moment or two with a kind of morbid fascination. Hermione dropped back down to her knees and pulled out another knife. 'Let's see if I remember the connection points to get the skin off cleanly. Draco, you set up a place for a fire and bring back a lit stick from the other one, kay?' she said. He nodded again, not wanting to know what he meant by 'get the skin off cleanly,' though he was pretty sure he knew.

He set up a fireplace, lit it with a stick from the other fire, and sat down to assist Hermione, though reluctantly. She made a deep cut all the way from the anus to the cut in the throat and severed a few tendons and ligaments. Considering her initial reaction and the expression on her face, her hand was steady and sure, and she seemed to know exactly what to do.

Hermione pulled out the things in the chest and stomach cavities, her eyes closed and her face screwed up in disgust. She placed them in a careful pile near the fire to make sure no animals decided they wanted some. She filled up the stomach and bladder with water from a nearby brook to keep them pliable and took another deep breathe.

'I know it's going to be really gross but you need to help me here,' she said firmly. He nodded again, not trusting himself to speak. 'We're going to need to lift the skin off-'

'_What?!'_ he croaked out, his throat oddly tight and constricted.

'You said you wanted meat and this is the only way to get it! If you want to eat, just help me!' she snapped. Draco swallowed the bile rising in his throat and took a hold where she indicated. Together they managed to pull the skin off with little trouble, leaving them with a bare carcass, a pile of innards, and a near perfect hide with only two holes where the spears had pierced it.

They stared at the carcass for a moment, then Hermione took a deep breath and sat down beside it again.

'Draco, can I trust you to do something for me? Even if you don't like it?' she asked tentatively. 'I can do it if you can't, but I weave better than you and this doesn't take much practice.'

'Uh, depends what it is,' Draco said, sitting down beside her.

'I would like for you to cut this deer into little strips, like chicken wing-sized,' Hermione said. Draco looked revolted. 'Oh, come on, don't tell me you've never had to cut up meat before? Helping someone cook, or something?'

'Never. I've never even had chicken wings. I always got pheasant breast on a gilded platter,' he said. 'I've never had to cut up meat, at least not raw meat.'

Hermione sighed, pulled out the knife and began to cut away steadily at the meat. 'Okay, then, you make a woven panel, about a yard square, out of a loose but sturdy weave. We need to find sticks to prop it up on, a ways above the fire, so that the meat can steam. We don't want it to go bad. We don't have the right herbs to settle the stomach,' she instructed.

'Right,' he said. He gathered materials and sat down facing away from the nauseating scene of butchering. He wove slowly but steadily, trying to keep the weave even but still dropping a few stitches. They weren't big and he pronounced it fit. Then he found a few sticks to prop the panel up with, far enough above the flames so it didn't burn.

Hermione came over carrying a large armful of meat and laid it out evenly on the smoking rack. The smoke from the fire twisted through the holes and between the fibers of the panel and curled around the meat, endowing it with a smoky flavor and toughening it.

'That should last us for a while,' she sighed. 'But I need to make a few baskets to keep the meat in once it's dried, then I need to make a stew for tonight. We need to make another fire and another panel and start smoking the other half of the deer as well so it doesn't spoil-' she said tiredly, reaching for the weaving materials. Draco caught her hand.

'No,' he said gently. 'You're exhausted, you're covered in deer blood, you deserve to go take a bath and rest. You've practically saved our lives ever since we've been here. I'll make the fire and the panel, I'll somehow manage to slice up the dead deer, I'll make another panel, I can handle it. Go,' he said, helping her to her feet. She sagged against him.

'Thank you, Draco,' she whispered, kissing him lightly. Then she slouched off in the direction of their campsite.

Draco didn't break his promise, He built up another fire, wove another panel, and cut the deer into strips (which was disgusting, by the way!). And, while the deer smoked, he wove six medium-sized baskets to keep the meat in.

Hermione returned about thirty minutes later, just as he was finishing the last basket, looking refreshed and content. She looked around approvingly as she came toward him, sitting down and beaming at him.

'Oh, Draco, you're getting so much better at this!' she said, examining one of his many baskets. 'These will be great meat-keepers! Which reminds me, we need to take that first batch of meat off the fire or it's going to burn,' she said, hopping on with basket in hand and hurrying to the first smoking rack.

Hermione piled the meat into the basket, returned for another two baskets, and brought them all back. She pulled out two strips, handed one to Draco, and ripped off a chunk of hers in her teeth. Draco did the same. It wasn't bad, rather like jerky. He ate it ravenously, finally getting his fix of protein and other minerals they had been so desperately lacking in.

'God, this is the best food I have ever eaten in my life!' he moaned, stuffing even more into his crowded mouth. Hermione nodded.

'I know, and this stuff isn't even properly cooked! Just wait till I find some herbs and I'll make us a stew out of it!' she said eagerly. And she rushed off to gather herbs. Draco watched her go, a small smile playing on his face.

Hermione managed to come up with some wild onions, which were surprisingly sweet raw, a little parsley, some more carrots, and a few things Draco didn't recognize. The threw them all in a basket she had made to be watertight, let the water soak through the fibers so it wouldn't catch fire, and hung it over the flames to cook.

'That should be done in about a half hour,' she said, sitting down across from him again, beaming.

'What would I do without you?' he asked.

'Starve,' she said laughingly.

'Probably,' he admitted. She laughed, he laughed, and they smiled at each other. 'You know, it's amazing how you can survive out here. I would go mad, I would, if I was out here alone. If I didn't have you,' he added blushingly. She grin broadened.

'I maybe wouldn't go mad, exactly, but I sure would be lonely. I may not have had the will to remember all this stuff. But when I have someone with me, I feel responsible for them. Especially you. You know nothing about survival, it was all up to me, so I made myself remember all of this, thought up everything I could to keep you alive. I just need someone to need me. That's why I became a bookworm to begin with. So people would come to me for help, would need me to get by. Why do you think I'm friends with Harry and Ron? They need me!' she put in, giggling.

'Yes, they do,' Draco agreed, laughing. 'And now I do, too. I need you, Hermione, I really do.' He took her hands, looked into her eyes, and kissed her. She kissed him back lightly.

'I love you,' she whispered. She hugged him tightly, and he her.

'I love you, too,' he said, giving her a little squeeze.

They stayed that way for a minute or two, enfolded comfortably in each others' arms. After a while, Hermione pulled back, kissed him quickly, and said, 'I need to go check the stew.'

When she returned, she was carrying two small baskets filled to the brim with a thick, meaty stew.

'We don't have spoons yet so just drink it or something,' she said, handing him a bowl and sitting down again.

Draco took a sip of it and was amazed to find it delicious. He didn't know why this surprised him, maybe he had expected less--but since he hadn't had hardly any meat--anything was still delicious. He drank it down as fast as possible, nearly choking on it.

'Hermione, this is the most delicious food I have ever tasted in my entire life!' he gasped when he had drained his entire bowl. She sniggered quietly at the broth all around his mouth and he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

'Thank you, Draco,' she giggled. 'Just some meat and a few basic spices,' she said modestly.

'No, it's not, it's scrumptious,' he said firmly. She laughed and drained her bowl as well. 'Well, now that we have meat, and fruit, and water, and fire, and shelter, and clothes, and tools, and weapons…what's left to do?' Draco asked, pulling Hermione to her feet.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, pacing a bit.

'I'm not sure. Maybe we should go exploring a bit,' she said. Draco looked doubtful. 'To make sure no one else got transported here by mistake, you know? If anyone else was here, we need to find them, they may not know how to survive out here like I do. We would need to help them,' she said. 'And we need to know what other kinds of animals are around here. We don't want to be caught unawares.'

'Okay. How do we do that?' Draco asked.

'First, we need to get all this meat back to camp and put it in another basket. Then we need to makes some carrying baskets with straps and load them with fruit and meat, maybe two days worth. Some water would be nice, but not absolutely necessary; we'll probably find more streams along the way. Take our spears and our wands, obviously, and that should be about all we need for a day or two's exploration.' She said all this very fast.

Draco--who hadn't understood as much as three words of her little monologue--nodded and said, 'I'll just let you do the packing, then.' She laughed again and began gathering up the racks and the meat to take back to the main camp. He helped her carry them all and pack them into another, larger basket, and flopped down under the overhang.

'You pack; I didn't comprehend a single word of what you said,' he said, smiling at her simply. Hermione rolled her eyes, grinning, and began to layer things into baskets.

'We won't go today, we'll wait till tomorrow,' she said. 'We'll have to put out the fire when we go, though, or it'll set fire to everything else we've worked so hard to make. We'll just start magical fires while we travel. I don't want to have to make another one by hand ever again.'

'Right you are!' Draco agreed heartily. 'Yea for magic!'

'Yea for being lazy!' Hermione imitated him. She came over, having finished laying things out, and laid down beside him, snuggling up to his bare chest. 'I just hope no one else got stuck here. As fun as it's been here with you, they might be alone and scared, nearly starving to death. Oh, great, now I feel all guilty for not looking for others sooner,' she moaned.

'Hermione, we don't even know if there _is_ anyone else here,' Draco reminded her. 'There could be nothing to worry about at all. And if there is someone out there, I bet you know enough spells, and cook well enough, to get them all fit again.'

Hermione smiled up at him gratefully. She kissed him lightly and sighed. 'I hope so, oh God, do I hope so.'

Hermione was awoken by early morning sunlight streaming through the cracks in the clay-covered mat that served as their door. She sat up and yawned, stretching her hands above her head. She nudged Draco a few times, but he just groaned and rolled over.

She turned his head and abruptly kicked out the mat. Blindingly bright sunlight exploded into the overhang, startling Draco so badly that he let out a small scream and threw his hands up to cover his eyes, obviously awake.

He blinked in the light and frowned at Hermione, who was nearly doubled up laughing at his reaction. 'Sure, go ahead, laugh at my suffering, I don't mind,' he snapped sarcastically. Hermione smiled sympathetically at him.

'If you had gotten up when I tried to wake you, you would have been ready for daylight,' she said in her best know-it-all voice. 'But, no, you decided to be lazy and try to sleep in. Come on, get excited! We get to go hiking today, to make sure no one else got trapped here,' she reminded him earnestly. He just moaned and flopped back down, his eyes cradled in his elbow.

Hermione pulled Draco to his feet and stuffed a backpack basket into his hands. 'Put it on, wake up, and come on!' He did the first, ignored the second, and followed her into the cover of trees.

They carefully avoided the spot where they had killed the deer the day before; it was still a emotional spot for them. They walked in step, calling out for others every few minutes, and otherwise just talking.

'What made you change your mind about me, anyway?' Hermione asked curiously. 'I always thought you hated me.'

'Well, at school, I just thought of you as a silly little mudblood know-it-all, someone who just wanted to show off and impress the teachers. I never thought it was important to know all the stuff they were trying to teach us. I only learned it all because it was better at Hogwarts than it was at home. But then we got here, and I came to see how all of this stuff really was applicable to real life.

'And how smart you really were. All the studying and diligence wasn't just to try and be better than everyone else, it was actually preparing you for anything that could come alone. I saw you in a different light than at school. You went from annoying little brat to capable and intelligent woman, as strange as that may sound. It takes a life-and-death situation to show you your true potential.'

Hermione contemplated this for a moment. It seemed to make sense, at least a little bit of it.

'What about you? What changed your mind about me?' Draco asked, just as curiously. 'I always thought you hated me, too.'

'I did,' Hermione confessed. 'You just seemed like a prejudiced, arrogant bully, always treating others like they were inferior to you just because you were pureblood and they weren't. It didn't help that you insulted me, Harry and Ron at every opportunity--'

'Yeah, sorry about that,' he inserted, grinning sheepishly.

'It's okay--or that you threatened and challenged Harry at everything he did. But then we got here. And you seemed so helpless in the beginning that I felt responsible for your safety and wellbeing. Then you asked to learn how to survive on your own. You were such a diligent student, when it was something you wanted to learn, something you saw a reason for learning.

'And they way your eyes seemed to light up when you did something right. Praise was obviously something you had never gotten before, or at least not sincere praise, and it just made me feel so good to give it to you and see you respond so positively. It made me realize that you really are an intelligent and talented young man. Once again, seeing you in a new and better light.'

Draco smiled at her and blushed. It was true he hadn't gotten any praise as a child, and he still wasn't used to compliments.

'Uh, we should probably call to see if anyone's around here,' he said, by way of a cover for his pink cheeks. He turned away and called, 'Hello? Is there anyone out there?' Nothing.

Still nothing.

Then…

'Malfoy?!'

**A/N Who should they find?? PLEASE review and give me ideas cuz i've got writers block and I can't think who'd be best to disrupt things a bit!!!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Hermione squeaked and rushed into the trees in the direction of the voice, Draco on her heels. She called out again and the voice responded, "Hermione?!" She pushed aside a tree and revealed…

"Neville!" Hermione pulled the trembling boy into a tight hug. He hugged her back, clung to her in desperation.

"Hermione! Oh my God, I've been wandering around for a week trying to find a way out of this wretched forest! I thought there had to be people around here somewhere." He pulled back and beamed at her.

"Well, we're not so sure there are," Hermione said apologetically. "So far it's been just me and Draco here. Today is the first we decided to try and see if anyone else got stuck here and, obviously, they did. And this is an island so there really isn't any way off." Neville's face fell. Hermione stood back and looked at him.

His robes were ripped and torn, and he was covered in dirt. There were twigs and leaves in his hair, and a few nasty scratches in his cheeks and hands, a few of them still bloody.

"How have you guys been surviving out here on your own?" Neville asked astounded. "I've barely been keeping alive, but you guys look like you've been in a spa."

"Let me tell you, this is one tough girl you have here," Draco said, draping an arm around her shoulders and beaming at her. Neville stared at them in horror but Draco ignored him. "She knows all sorts of stuff about surviving in the wild, and it all came out of this series of books, its amazing. We've got fire, shelter, food and water, storage and baskets and all sorts of good stuff."

"You've got food?!" Neville asked sharply. Hermione nodded and pulled a stick of dried meat out of her pack. Neville snatched it from her hand and devoured it greedily.

"How did you stay alive all this time if you didn't have food or shelter or heat or anything?" Draco asked amazedly, beginning to lead the way back to camp.

"I have no idea," Neville admitted. "I didn't do anything at all for the first two days or so, just hid in a bush and waited for someone to find me; I was sure they would come soon. Obviously they didn't, so I started walking and I just ate whatever fruit I could find on trees, and tried to find some sort of cover when it rained." He sneezed violently, turning away from the others and sniffling. "I don't think I did too well on that last part."

"Oh, Neville, I'll get you some calming tea when we get back to camp," Hermione said, patting him gingerly on the back. "Then you can have a nice nap while we see if there's anyone else out there. Did you see anyone?"

"No, no one at all. I'm glad I found you, Hermione, or else I'm sure I'd be dead in a few days."

"No, you wouldn't!" Hermione said firmly. "You would have lived for a while, if you managed to find food. Anyone can survive if they apply themselves, if they just have the will." She lead Neville into their campsite, smiling as he ogled the fire and the overhang and the sparkling stream and the baskets of food in wonder.

"I'll make you some tea," Hermione said, gently sitting him down by the fire. "Willow bark is really the only kind we can make here, I don't exactly recognize the other herbs yet. But that's okay, because it has some good painkilling properties that would make you sleep better."

"And you look like you really need it," Draco said, sitting down across from the shaking boy. "Here, have a banana. It'll prevent scurvy," he said brightly.

"Uh, thanks," Neville said suspiciously, taking the banana he was offered. "You didn't poison it, did you?"

"Neville!" Hermione cried. "How could you say something like that? He's been helping me out here, and he's trying to help you. Why would you say something like that to him?"

"Sorry," Neville answered. "Force of habit, I guess." He peeled the banana and bit into it, chewing slowly to see if it tasted funny. Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"See? You aren't dead yet, so just eat it," he grouched. Then, under his breath he muttered, "Ungrateful little git."

"I heard that!" Neville yelled.

"Draco, Neville, stop fighting this instant!" Hermione said, glaring down at the pair of them. "If we're going to have to live together, you two will have to get along." They didn't answer, just glared at each other. Hermione sighed, placing a cup of hot tea in Neville's hands. "Drink that, and you can take a nap or something. We need to go see if there's anyone else around here."

Neville nodded and took a sip, sighing appreciatively. Hermione motioned to Draco and they set off into the trees again, Draco casting one more glowering look over his shoulder at the other boy. They walked in silence for a few minutes, looking around for anyone they might have missed on their last trip.

"Draco, are you and Neville going to be able to get along?" Hermione asked, with such a good imitation of Professor McGonagall that he almost felt contrite. His anger superseded it, though, and he scowled.

"Probably not," he growled. "He's being an ungrateful git, can you blame me?"

"Yes, I can!" Hermione said, stopping and putting her hands on her hips. "We're the ones who know how to live here, so we have to help Neville. And if he stays here with us--which he _will_--we can't have you two fighting all the time. It could put us all at risk. We need to work together out here. I can't be stuck with all the work while you two are busy bickering!"

"Hermione! Why are you pinning all the blame on me?" Draco said indignantly. "Why aren't you getting on _his_ case about this?"

"Because he's tired and malnourished and upset. He needs time to get his wits about him, get back some common sense. You already have some common sense, I think, and you're not exactly using it. Even if Neville tried to attack you, we could take him. I wouldn't hesitate to take down both of you if you started a duel! And you can count on that! Now stop acting like a immature 10-year-old and get your act together!"

Draco gaped at her back as she stormed off through the trees. "Okay, this is ridiculous," he heard her mutter, pointing her wand up through the canopy of trees. Red sparks shot out of it to spell the words 'IS ANYBODY STRANDED OUT THERE?' in the sky. It hovered there. After a few minutes with no response, Hermione waved her wand and the words faded.

"That'll have to do for now," she said, turning back to him. "I'm going back to check on Neville. I'll talk to him about you. Keep looking for awhile, so I can talk some sense into him. Come back in a half hour."

Draco nodded and set off into the trees to look more carefully through the wooded undergrowth for other stranded Hogwartians. Hermione turned back toward the campsite to find Neville sitting staring into the swirling water of the stream. She sat down next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

"Neville?" she asked quietly. "You okay? You feeling any better now that you have some food in you?"

"I guess so," he said. Then he looked at her. "What are you doing with Malfoy? I thought you two would have killed each other by now, with just the two of you here." Hermione blushed a dark red, looking away quickly.

"Um, well, uh, once we…once we got time to, you know, actually talk to one another…he really isn't so bad. He's actually really nice to talk to, to be around. He's smart, and talented, and intuitive, and sweet, and…" she trailed off, a dazed smile on her face. Neville grimaced at the look on her face. Then she snapped back to reality, suddenly remembering that her friend was there. "Sorry…"

"Okay, well it's fairly obvious that you like the creep," Neville said, a hint of sulkiness in his voice. He glared into the fire. "I just can't believe it. I thought you were going out with Ron?" Hermione gasped, shocked and mortified.

"Oh my god! I completely forgot!" she cried. "I feel horrible now! I can't believe I'm cheating on Ron with Draco. Wow. I never thought those words would ever come out of my mouth," she added, frowning oddly.

"No one did. I mean, I thought if you would ever cheat on Ron with anyone, it would be with Harry or something," he said, smiling slyly at her.

"Uh, no."

"Just a thought," Neville said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "But, still, Malfoy?! That's just weird. It messes with the whole Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry, the Golden Trio-Malfoy rivalry, the Granger-Malfoy rivalry, all sorts of rivalries! Come on, how can you break all of those just to be with Malfoy?"

"Because I've realized that all of that enmity is stupid and immature," Hermione said primly. "I've grown up, I've gotten past all of those childhood squabbles. Why can't you?"

"Those 'childhood squabbles' were a week ago, Hermione!" Neville yelled. "You're saying that you grew up in a week on a deserted island with Malfoy? Do you have any idea what you're saying? Or have you gone completely and totally insane?"

"I'm in love!"

There was silence. Hermione was stunned at hearing those words come out of her mouth. She was sure she hadn't meant to say that, had never even considered it possible. Neville was in shock over her confession, gaping at her as if she had suddenly sprouted tentacles from her ears. Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth, tears of confusion and conflict springing up in her eyes, and Neville gave himself a little shake.

"Oh. Oh, I see. He's obviously gotten into your pants," he said spitefully. "That's really all it takes for most girls to say they're in love. Especially with someone as charming as Malfoy. Just look at Pansy," he sneered.

"Is that what you think, Neville?" Hermione whispered. "I can't believe someone I've known for over six years, that I've been friends with, that knows me so well, would even suggest that I would sleep with someone I've only really known for a few days," she said, her voice rising dangerously. She got to her feet slowly, glaring down at Neville, who was now scurrying back from her. "If you can even suspect me of that, then you're not nearly as good a friend as I once considered you to be!"

Hermione whipped out her wand, pointing it at Neville. A bit of her self control slipped and red sparks began to fly from the end of it. He let out a high pitched squeak and began to crawl to a safe distance on his hands and knees. Once he was out of range of the sparks, he scrambled to his feet, pulling his own wand from a back pocket of his robes.

"Hermione, I know you're angry, but there's no need for you to freak out like this," he said soothingly. "Dueling will get us no where. I'm sorry I said that, I know you would never do that, it's just--"

"No!" Hermione screamed, advancing on him until her wand was pressed at his throat. "Drop your wand," she growled menacingly. Neville did so, beginning to shake. He knew full well that she was a better fighter than him. He had never really had the will to physically hurt anyone, unless they had done so to him first, and Hermione had never done that sort of thing to him. "If I can tell you how to survive out here on your own, will you be able to follow my instructions?" she asked, and he nodded, dreading the order he knew would come. "Then listen up, because if you can't live with me and Draco's decision, then you won't live with us at all."

"No, no, I promise I will deal with it!" he pleaded. "I've been wandering out here for a week, and I'll never endure another day. I was on the brink of suicide out there anyway!" Hermione pulled away, looking at him with an surprised, almost pitying look on her face.

"Were you really?" she asked softly.

"Yeah. I didn't want to live if I couldn't be with anyone. I've always been a people person. Even if they didn't like me, I would rather talk to someone than be alone," Neville said honestly, dropping down to the ground glumly. "I didn't know what kind of food was safe to eat, or what water was clean enough to drink, so I would have died soon enough anyway. I was just considering making it a little less miserable of a death."

"Neville!" Hermione said, sitting next to him. "I can't believe that! Okay, you can stay here, and we'll make sure to keep you alive and well. Just don't say anything about us, even if you don't approve," she said sternly. He nodded. "Alright, we're friends. Now I have to go and catch up with Draco." She kissed him on the forehead, making him blush, and rushed off into the woods.

She traipsed through the woods, calling Draco's name. A solid twenty minutes went by before she found him, leaning against a tree, banana in hand.

"Hey, why are you so far out?" she asked, a little out of breath. He shrugged unconcernedly.

"You told me to stay away. I just kept walking till I found some food. Want one? These are really ripe," he said, offering her another banana from the bunch he had levitated down from the tree behind him. Hermione took one gratefully. "So what happened with the twerp?"

"Don't call him that!" she said. "That's why he doesn't like you, you know. He thinks you're only trying to take advantage of me, or something, and that you're pure evil. A lot of people think that, and I don't want him to disapprove of us for any more reasons than he does already."

"Alright, alright, but how did it go with him?" he asked, brushing off her admonishment.

"It was fine. We argued a bit, we made up, he promised not to make any comments about us," Hermione said, leaning against the tree opposite him. "So, as long as you keep a civil tongue, I think he will, too."

"I'll try my hardest," Draco said, and she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. She shot him a warning look and he rolled his eyes, swallowing the last of his banana and throwing the peel away. "Okay, I promise I won't insult the little git. Within earshot, at least." Hermione sighed, knowing that was best she was going to get.

"Good. Now that that's settled, we need to get back. We shouldn't leave him alone for long before he knows how to take care of himself."

"Don't treat him like a child, Hermione. I think he can take care of himself for a half an hour, at least. He's not _that_ incapable, I don't think," Draco said, motioning for them to start walking back the way she had come.

"He'll have to. It took me twenty minutes to get here, and it'll take at least thirty to get back," Hermione moaned. "My feet are killing me. I wish we could just aparate back."

"Can we?" Draco asked, stopping. "We never tried aparating, did we?" he said in a tone that said quite clearly that they were idiots.

"No, I don't believe we ever did," Hermione said slowly. "I guess we should. Come on, let's try and aparate back to the campsite." She offered him her hand, which he took, and concentrated very hard on their little clearing with the stream. She took a deep breath, and turned on the spot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

There was the usual moment of tight darkness, and she opened her eyes, expecting to see the campsite. But it wasn't there. Instead, there was a dark tunnel, and she still couldn't breathe. She looked over and Draco was standing beside her, hand still clasped in hers, pale and apprehensive looking; He was too "macho" to look scared. It lasted so long, that suffocating blackness, that she began to gasp for air that wasn't there.

Just before she felt as though she would pass out, she suddenly collapsed out of the tunnel onto dark stone, shooting pain upward through her knees. She tried to cry out, but there wasn't enough breath left in them, so she gulped air down, feeling the oxygen rush to her head. It gave her a major headache. She heard coughing behind her, and turned to see Draco standing there, having managed to maintain his balance, but obviously getting the same headache.

"Where are we?" Hermione panted, looking around. "This is not our campsite." Most definitely not their sandy little beach. Far from it. An enclosed courtyard, made entirely of dark stone, with no ways in or out and containing nothing but the two of them, and a lot of apprehension, a threatening sort of atmosphere that put them immediately on edge.

"No. No, it's not," Draco said, helping her to her feet and glancing around worriedly. "How did we end up here?"

"This is where all the occupants of my island end up when they finally think to try aparition," said a voice from behind them. They spun around to see a man, tall and thin. He had an air about him, dark and foreboding, though he was quite handsome. It was almost the same quality that Tom Riddle had possessed in his prime, charming, charismatic. His hands were tucked nonchalantly into the pockets of his casual suit, his hair slicked tastefully back from his face. Slight streaks of grey at the temple and crows feet at the corners of his eyes belayed more years than he seemed to have lived. He was smiling slightly at them both.

"What?" Hermione demanded, turning to face him fully. "What do you mean, 'your island'?"

"Exactly what I said, dear girl," the man replied serenely, continuing toward them. "I own this island. Not legally, quite, but it doesn't really matter. It's uncharted, Unplottable, unused, and unknown. And I'll just get around to telling you right now that no one besides me that's ever been on this island has gotten off of it. I tamed it, and therefore I control it. And I must say, dear children, that you are the newest participants in a game I have never lost."

Hermione, gripping Draco's arm tightly, took a few steps back. A panic was growing in the pit of her stomach, making her dizzy. This was most definitely not what she had expected to hear. Draco put an arm around her, as if he could protect her from this man. His other hand pointed a wand at the man.

"Come any closer and I'll curse you!" he said bravely. The man chuckled, but kept coming at them. "I'm warning you! I've had experience with this thing, believe me!"

"Oh, you foolish, foolish boy," the man hissed, coming faster now. His expression never changed, one of polite amusement to see their fear growing. "You really think those curses will do anything at all to me? Go ahead. Kill me. I dare you." Without a second thought, Draco shot a killing curse at the man. It passed right through him. Nothing happened. The man chuckled again.

"H-how did you do that?" Draco yelled pulling a trembling Hermione closer to him.

"Didn't you hear me before? This is my island." A manic sort of gleam was creeping into the man's eyes, his grin widened predatorily. He pulled his hands out of his pockets, his fingers twitching slightly as they compulsively clenched and unclenched. His voice, however, remained as calm and quiet as ever, composed and placid. "I control everything here. The weather, the plants, the animals, the magic, everything! Whatever I say goes, and I say that curses don't work here. And it is so. Here, my word is law. Here, I am in charge. Here, I can do what I want. Here, I rule!"

"W-who are you?" Hermione whispered.

"Here, I am God."s


End file.
